


Unconditional

by ptw30



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), Galra Officer Shiro, M/M, Mutual Pining, They are made for each other, space dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-04-25 05:45:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptw30/pseuds/ptw30
Summary: The warrior sobered instantly, and Keith wondered if he’d said something wrong. But then those gray eyes snapped back, and the challenging grin returned. “May I kiss you?”What kind of question was that? And just what the ruggle was akiss?BOM Keith meets former-gladiator-turned-Galra-soldier Shiro.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [sol1056](https://sol1056.tumblr.com/) for giving me inspiration and allowing me to use Shiro’s rank of sergeant major from [The Uncertain Hour.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12451041/chapters/31015014)

After close to three annuals passing information between Thace and Kolivan, Keith learned the path to Thace’s quarters by heart. Three lefts, a right, another left, and five grates. He unhitched final grate’s clasp, heaved it off the ceiling opening, and dove through to land in a crouch.

“Hey there. Come here often?”

The teasing but unfamiliar voice sent Keith’s instincts into overdrive, and he swung about, shifting into a fight stance to meet the intruder. Keith never appreciated the Blade mask more than he did at that moment. It covered his shocked expression.

A human. Here? In the middle of Zarkon’s control system? It wasn’t possible. Even he was half-Galra.

But unlike Keith, who wore his Galra heritage upon his pale cheeks with dual, indigo markings, the warrior sitting on the bed bore no indication of a Galran parent. A scar tore across the bridge of his nose, running from cheek to cheek, and when he stood, he lacked the usual towering stature of the Galra. He wore the silver breastplate and cuffs of an enlisted person – a sergeant major, to be exact – which confirmed his human heritage. No non-Galran citizen could be an officer in Zarkon’s army.

Much to Keith’s dismay, the warrior was _attractive._ There was no dismissing that fact. Dark bangs brushed across a golden brow. Stormy but warm eyes pierced Keith’s soul, and the pleasant facial features weren’t marred by the warrior’s scar. In fact, the mark only allured Keith to this man more. A time-tested warrior, one who rose from a meager rank to the highest position a non-Galra could hold? Amazing. And he was young – perhaps only a handful of years older than the nineteen-year-old Keith.

Of course, maybe it was the similarity to his own features that attracted to Keith to the warrior – or perhaps it was the lack of Galran girth and hard features. Either way, Keith had a mission, and he would see it through. This handsome warrior wouldn’t deter him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Keith said.

The warrior’s eyebrows rose. “Excuse me? _You_ dropped into _my_ bunk. Not that I’m complaining.” He waved his hands in front of him – one flesh with a cut-off glove, the other Galra-made. “But this is my space – or whatever constitutes it in the empire.”

Keith glanced about the bunk, eyes snagging the slightly different layout than Thace’s quarters, a desperate, few possessions – a crystal on the desk, a small sponge-like being resting on the bed, and a sweatshirt hanging in the open closet. The last item, Keith owned as well – one from the Galaxy Garrison where his father worked before leaving Earth.

The warrior appeared lax, though he shifted to cross his arms and place his weight on his back foot. “He’s not on this ship, whoever you’re looking for. Commander Sendak’s battlecruiser was switched with Commander Prorock’s at the last moment. Your rendezvous is probably halfway to the Yggiz Galaxy by now.” The warrior jerked a shoulder, then dove forward. “His loss.”

The sudden lunge caught Keith off guard, but he recovered quickly. The warrior was fast but lacked the speed of a Galran, allowing Keith to duck under his attack and parry with a kick. The warrior blocked it easily, crossed his wrists to absorb the blow, and dropped to catch Keith’s knees. Keith back-flipped over the sweeping leg and found himself smiling as the warrior took to his feet and readied to fight again.

“Not bad.” The warrior wore a subdued grin. “Your friend doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Oh, he knows.” Why he was replying? “He just likes me not to get into fights.”

The warrior’s shoulders heaved with an exaggerated sigh. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Yes, where indeed.

Keith lunged first this time and lost himself in the good-natured challenge. He should have been asking why the warrior engaged him – to distract him, so back-up could arrive? – but instead, Keith poured himself in the battle. A duck, a swipe, a kick, a block – and the warrior sparred equally as enthralled, his moves almost graceful in their execution. He swept from one attack to another, fierce but precise, and the challenge almost felt like a dance rather than a fight.

Even more intriguing – the warrior pulled his punches.

No doubt, that body held strength. Perhaps not as much as a Galran, but Keith should have been sore from their traded hits. The warrior surely would be feeling the remnants of Keith’s attacks tomorrow, but instead of grunting and favoring his bruised ribs, Keith would probably need nothing more than an ice pack.

It enraged Keith. He wasn’t a toy for this warrior – this non-Galran – to amuse himself, and Keith made sure the warrior knew that. His hits were nothing if not brutal, and the warrior hissed quite a few times. But he seemed to bide his time, waiting for Keith to slip up, and eventually, he did. The warrior stepped out of the way, drawing Keith past him, and then those toned arms – with all the strength the warrior had been conserving – wrapped about Keith’s waist. They went tumbling and stopped with the warrior atop Keith, grinning as he pinned Keith’s arms above his head.

Keith started to consider no less than seven – no, _eight_ – different ways to escape. They were all derailed when the warrior, pressing his weight down on Keith until their bodies were flush against one another. So close, the warrior’s breath brushed across his face. Even with the mask up, Keith felt its warmth.

“Patience yields focus,” the warrior laughed, breathless and full of mirth.

The lighthearted sound made Keith want to laugh, too, but he was too busy trying to focus. His head felt airy, his body numb and tingly in a way it never had been before. His stomach twisted, not painfully but in an uncomfortable, torturous manner. He struggled to breathe, and when the warrior reached up to hit off Keith’s mask, Keith’s soul escaped with his startled gasp.

The warrior smiled, gentle and kind; Keith might even go so far as to say indulgent. “I like the stripes. They suit you.”

Heat rushed to Keith’s cheeks. “I, uh, I like your scar.”

The warrior sobered instantly, and Keith wondered if he’d said something wrong. But then those gray eyes snapped back, and the challenging grin returned. “May I kiss you?”

What kind of question was that? And just what the ruggle was a _kiss?_

“N- _No_ …?” he managed to say, letting out his first breath in what seemed like an eternity.

The warrior recoiled. He released Keith’s wrists and lifted himself off Keith’s torso, too, leaning back upon his hunches and leaving Keith bereft of his warmth. Keith slowly followed and sat up, tugging on his gloves, his usual nervous tick.

“I, uh, good fight.” The warrior stood, rubbing the back of his neck before offering a hand to Keith. “So what information were you searching for, spitfire?”

Keith accepted the hand and was hauled to his feet, shocked speechless.

The warrior retreated to his desk, heaving one leg up and grabbing his tablet. “Look, you can’t tell me you stowed away on a Galra battlecruiser to run away from home. You came to steal information or get some from Prorock’s crew.”

“And you’re just going to hand it over to me?”

The warrior pressed his thumb to the corner of the tablet, and it blinked to life. “Well, that was my plan, yes.”

“That makes no sense. Why would you help me?”

A hitch of the shoulder. “I’m not exactly a fan of the empire, and you’re…interesting. Figure if I give you what you need, you might drop in again.”

Hm. The scar became more pronounced when the warrior blushed.

* * *

Kolivan, of course, reprimanded him for boarding the wrong ship and putting himself at risk by engaging a member of the crew in combat. Thace was particularly concerned, his voice condemning and harsh as he scolded Keith like a kit.

“Shiro is not someone to take lightly. If you cross paths with him again, you are to disengage. Do you understand?”

“Why?” Not that Keith was planning to “drop in” as _Shiro_ had requested, but he was curious. “He fought honorably, and I could take him. There’s no reason to – ”

“He serves under Commander Sendak, Zarkon’s highest-ranking commander. And he is ruthless and savage, having fought his way to freedom by way of the arena. A fight with him is sure to end in death.”

“Then how am I still standing here?” Keith demanded.

Though Kolivan narrowed his eyes, studying Keith with his usual silent but unnerving scrutiny, Thace scoffed. “Just because you survived one encounter, does not mean you’ll survive another. He is a monster, Keith. A pure savage. Do not let his pleasant facial features fool you.”

Keith shivered at the implication that Thace found the warrior attractive but eventually conceded. After all, Keith found out what he wanted.

It didn’t take long to find a sergeant major named “Shiro” in the Blade’s records. Takashi Shirogane. 23. Prisoner number 117-9875. Originally from Earth, where Keith was born. Apprehended in the Milky Way Galaxy. A stint with the Druids before being transferred to the gladiator arena. Eventually he received citizenship by championing the games and enlisted in Zarkon’s army under Sendak. He earned the rank of sergeant major, the highest achievement of any non-Galran in the empire.

Keith hit off his tablet and clicked his claws against the screen. Shiro, himself, was striking, but one phrase in particular piqued Keith’s interest. He thought briefly about talking to Thace, but then he’d have to explain where he’d heard it. He could ask Ulaz, but the researcher wasn’t due back to the headquarters for another feeb. Kolivan and Antok would automatically be suspicious, so that left only one option.

Within a movement, Keith received a mission to retrieve supplies from the Unliu. Kolivan wouldn’t notice if he detoured for a few ticks.

“What is… _kissing?_ ”

Shiro started. He was entering his quarters, fresh from the showers, a towel wrapped about his waist. His torso and chest remained bare, showcasing the numerous scars that he must have received in the arena. Old gashes marked his arms and torso – some smooth cuts from swords, others harsh and ropey from whips and other weapons. Dark scar tissue wrapped about the base of his prosthetic, and a jagged abrasion upon his chest appeared carved, forming a large makeshift V. It started at his pectorals and came to point at his sternum.

Keith rubbed his right wrist, worrying the scarred skin underneath his suit and glove.

“Kissing is an affectionate gesture,” Shiro began as he dropped his towel and Keith looked away. “It’s a show of friendship when done on the cheek and romantic when on the lips. I’m assuming it’s similar to the Galran ritual of scent-marking? But kissing, itself, doesn’t leave any indication of ownership or territory.”

When the bed dipped, Keith turned to see Shiro sitting cross-legged, now dressed in a tight black T-shirt that widened Keith’s eyes, and a loose set of sweatpants.

“And you wanted to do…what? Do it to me? _With_ me?” Keith asked.

Shiro shrugged, hands tucked into the creases of his knees. “I just thought you were feisty – and well, _cute.”_

Cute? Keith debated drawing his dagger, but Shiro took his hand and threaded their fingers together. “Look…”

“Keith.”

Shiro smiled, his head tilted as if to say, “Of course it is.” “I’m Shiro.”

“I know.”

 _Of course you do._ Shiro’s smile fell, and he squeezed Keith’s hand. “There’s no need to rush or even discuss this. You didn’t have to come back. I just – ”

So many contradictions. So many emotions. Keith thought his stomach would bottom out and his heart would explode at the same time. “You were in the arena.”

A deep line formed between Shiro’s eyes, and he glanced away. “Yes.”

“You were brutal. Savage. I’m told you’re a monster.”

“I’ve been called that, yes. I’ve done… _things_ I’m not proud of. But I wanted to survive, and I did.” His fingers tightened in Keith’s. “Maybe…Maybe that makes me unworthy of cute, feisty things, but I had hoped…”

His once bright smile became tight, self-depreciating, but as his fingers loosened, Keith chased them.

“Can – Can you show me how you – how one – how… _we_ kiss?”

A beat of shock, followed by one of surprise, and Shiro shook his head. “Not if you’re uncomfortable. Don’t force yourself to do anything you don’t feel ready or want to do.”

Keith jerked Shiro’s arm, demonstrating the Galran strength in his compacted frame, and Shiro tumbled forward onto his knees. “Show me.”

Shiro’s lips glistened as his pink tongue swiped across the bottom. With a featherweight, tentative touch, his fingers slid under Keith’s chin and lifted it up. He pressed his warm, firm lips against Keith’s cheek, right on his Galran marking. Keith’s skin tingled.

Afterwards, Shiro turned his own cheek to the side and held it against Keith’s, whispering into his ear, “That’s the mark of friendship.”

His fingers slid up Keith’s soft skin until his thumb rested against the curve of Keith’s cheek. Shiro dipped his head, so his soft gray eyes were same level of Keith’s. They weren’t laughing now or even daring. They were trembling.

“This, uh,” His thumb pressed across Keith’s mouth, drawing his tongue out to wet edges. “This is the romantic gesture.”

Shiro pressed those pale lips against Keith’s.

Keith’s eyes remained open, watching Shiro closely. Shiro closed his and turned his head to the side. He fumbled a bit at first, then opened his mouth and licked the side of Keith’s, as if trying to gain entrance. His fingers remained light, though they pressed into Keith’s chin and cheek, while his second hand came up to cradle the back of Keith’s head. A gentle caress sent shivers down Keith’s spine, and a tiny nip upon his bottom lip drew a flinch. When Shiro opened his eyes, they offered a silent apology. He pulled away.

“You…you do want this, right? Because if you don’t, we can – ”

Keith thought, then pressed his gloved fingers to his wet and cooling lips. “Are you good at this? Or – or do we need to practice? Like blade-wielding?”

Shiro blinked and broke into a laughing smile. “It’s all about fighting with you, isn’t it?”

Was there anything else? Training, battles, sustenance, and the occasional holiday feast, but the Blades generally didn’t hold celebrations or parties like other free planets or the rebels. Oh, Ancients. _The rebels._ They took any opportunity to drink and celebrate, even the most minor wins.

“Tell you what.” Shiro seized both of Keith’s hands in his own. “Why don’t we try this again, and you follow my lead this time. Afterwards, we can do whatever it is the Galra do with their partners.”

Keith sent Shro a sidelong glance. “You’ll – You’ll let me scent-mark you…?”

Ulaz tried to explain it once, about how scent-marking released endorphins and pheromones. The body’s chemicals created a natural high for the marker and warded off potential aggressors for the mate. That seemed a bit extreme to Keith, who basically nodded along to show he listened rather than understood. It was all biological and wouldn’t matter to him unless he took a mate, which he never entertained before. But Keith had seen the immerse pleasure and comfort that Ulaz and Thace received from scent-marking and wondered if perhaps marking Shiro would give him the same sensations. What if Shiro’s human biology wouldn’t have the same affect upon Keith?

Only one way to find out.

“Okay.”

Shiro’s fingers knotted with his, and he ducked his head to find Keith’s gaze. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Shiro released Keith’s hands in favor of his cheeks, which warmed between Shiro’s large hands. The warrior smiled again, a bit sheepish but kind and caring. Then he closed his eyes. Keith did the same this time and surrendered to the embrace. Shiro’s lips were soft and welcoming, and when he tilted Keith’s head to the side, Keith obliged. A nip on his lower lip, and he opened his mouth, welcoming Shiro’s searing tongue. It struck a spark of pleasure in Keith’s belly and spread to his groin. Shiro pressed closer, briefly lifting his lips from Keith’s and stealing a breath. Keith opened his eyes and crossed them to stare at Shiro’s nose and scar, before the warrior leaned forward again. The new position braced Keith’s hands against Shiro’s broad and hard chest. He wanted to bring Shiro closer, not push him away, so Keith slid his hands up and over Shiro’s shoulders to wrap about his neck. One of Keith’s hands mimicked Shiro’s, entangling his fingers in Shiro’s hair. Shiro moaned, pleased, and Keith followed, the vibrations sending more arousing echoes through his suddenly heated body. Shiro shifted yet again, arm dropping to Keith’s waist, tugging –

With a yelp, Keith found himself sprawled upon Shiro, the warrior securing him with both arms wrapped about his waist. Gasps escaped Keith’s mouth as he shifted to find a comfortable position, one leg thrown over Shiro’s. He dropped his forehead to Shiro’s and tried to catch his breath.

“That was…”

Shiro lifted his chin to peck Keith’s lips. “Yeah…”

When Shiro’s fingers ghosted over his lower back, tips teasing his skin through the suit, Keith dropped his head to Shiro’s chest and began to caress. First, he used his cheek and chin, pressing hard into Shiro’s chest. Shiro tensed, his arms slowly un-circling to simply hold Keith’s hips. Keith lifted his head to make sure Shiro was still onboard, and he found Shiro watching him closely, eyes half-lidded and gazed over in certain pleasure.

Well…okay, then.

He heaved himself up, much to Shiro’s disappointment – if Keith interpreted that groan correctly – and straddled Shiro’s slender waist. Tugging off each of his gloves, he pushed up his sleeves to reveal his wrists – and the jagged v carved into the right one. Shiro immediately noticed it, body stiffening and breath hitching.

Keith never believed in destiny or fate, didn’t believe in soulmates, either. He’d received this particular mark after birth, during one of the most brutal and bloody battles of his life. It almost cost him the use of his hand. It almost cost Regis his life. As Shiro’s gaze fell to his own chest and then rose to stare at his scar’s twin, Keith began to think something more than coincidence brought them together.

Shiro licked his lips again, grasping for something to say, and Keith suffered a tug-a-war in his heart. He both dreaded and hung on Shiro’s next word.

A determined glint snapped over Shiro’s once troubled expression, signaling a decision. An indulgent grin overtook his face, and it made Keith blush and squirm. A quick, stolen kiss and light pressure upon Keith’s hips grounded him, and when Shiro lifted his chin, revealing the smooth column of his neck – granting permission to continue – Keith complied.

Gentle swipes brushed across Shiro’s arm, sides and chest. Burying his face in Shiro’s neck, Keith first inhaled the warrior’s unique scent – vanilla, sage, and a hint of lavender – before nuzzling his cheek against the soft skin. He allowed himself a few tiny licks, especially across Shiro’s collarbone.

Shiro jumped and then let out a sheepish laugh. “Sorry. That tickles.”

Hm. All right. Keith did it again and again, from the tiny cleft of Shiro’s collarbone to the crux of his neck, just to hear Shiro’s light-hearted laughter a few more times. Only after Shiro nudged his head and managed a breathless, “Stop,” did Keith move onto Shiro’s shoulders. Over and over he covered Shiro until he couldn’t tell where his scent started and Shiro’s began. A warm, pleasant feeling spread throughout him, and he collapsed, arms looped about Shiro’s neck, his head resting upon the warrior’s strong shoulder.

Keith wasn’t sure how long they laid like that, ensconced in a tender embrace. Keith felt safe and secure, relaxed and even relieved, though he wasn’t sure how. Or why. And he didn’t care at that moment. He surrendered to the relaxed bliss, allowing the good feeling to permeate every facet of his being.

Eventually, Shiro broke the comfortable silence. “So…Keith. Got a last name? And maybe a phone number.”

_To Be Continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

Shiro wasn’t a savage, and he certainly wasn’t a monster. In fact, he was undeniably a dork.

He talked about his hoverbike on Earth, about astronomy and astrophysics, about his life as a pilot, and about some Earth dish called macaroni and cheese. His entire face lit up, a tiny dimple forming on one cheek when he grinned. His voice carried an excited rhythm, and his hands sometimes moved along with his words.

Keith spent more than a few vargas laying upon Shiro’s bed, head pillowed on his hands as he listened to the warrior blather. Shiro’s presence was warm and firm against his side, and his soft voice lulled Keith into a true state of complete security and relaxation.

Keith offered some commentary – about the different knives he’d been trained to use, about the various “parental units” in his life, about his mom and how he missed her. He spoke about his dad a few times and even what little he knew about Earth.

“So that’s why you look human,” Shiro said, astonished. “I thought you might be a shapeshifter and just took a form that looks like mine.”

Keith shook his head and stole one of the ribs Shiro procured from the mess. “Nah. I have my dad’s build but look like my mom – I think. Minus the purple and mauve hair.”

Shiro offered him a napkin, then bit into a rib as well. They ate in companionable silence, taking food off the different plates Shiro placed between them on the bed. The spread wasn’t massive but thoughtful, with more foods akin to a Galran’s taste than not. Then again, Keith wasn’t sure if battlecruisers’ cooks accommodated non-Galran soldiers. What did non-Galrans – _humans_ – eat anyway?

Eventually, Keith’s curiosity got the better of him.

“What’s it like on Earth?”

Shiro’s eyes shot wide. “You don’t know?”

A shrug. Kolivan always said it was too dangerous to visit, best to leave Earth to its own devices while Zarkon did.

Keith sat, captivated, as Shiro spoke of cool desert nights and warm summer days. He described the rosy pink petals of cherry blossoms and the creamy, smooth flavor of latte. Video games and soccer, grass and palm trees. Turquoise water so clear you could see your feet through it.

When Keith blinked, Shiro stopped – “I’m not doing a good job of this, am I?” – and smiled. “I have an idea.”

A movement later, Keith found himself in jeans and a red hoodie, standing on the second deck of a busy complex, Shiro’s hand warm and reassuring in his. “You brought me to the mall?”

Shiro laughed. “This is more like Earth than you think. Come on. I want to show you something.”

The neon letters of the store sign blazed “Terra.” “What is this place?” Keith asked with more than a little apprehension, but Shiro offered his second hand and walked backwards, leading Keith into the store.

“This place has all kinds of stuff from Earth – comics, basketballs, even – ”

A loud, horn-like noise made Keith jump. When he reached for his blade, Shiro just tightened his hold. “It’s a cow, Keith! It’s just a cow.”

Keith eyed the suspicious looking black and white hooved animal on the counter and leaned back when its wet snout wiggled and sniffed toward him. It snorted, then went back to chewing its hay and forgetting Keith existed.

“What in the Feyiv is a… _cow?_?”

“Interested in Kaltenecker?” a gray-eyed, green-skin alien with gold necklaces and a white, low-cut shirt asked, coming to Keith’s side. “He’s free with purchase.”

Shiro smiled a tolerant grin and drew Keith close. “We’re just browsing, thanks.”

Shiro ended up buying several boxes of some pasta with an orange powder, a set of books, and a necklace with a symbol Keith didn’t recognize. When they exited the store, Shiro drew Keith to the edge of the corridor and lifted the necklace over his head.

“You remind me of fire – fierce, _passionate._ Every time I see an open flame or a bonfire, I think of you and smile. This symbol – _Ka_ – represents fire in my native language.”

Ducking his head, Keith wrapped a quivering hand about the necklace. How was he supposed to reply to that? He wasn’t good with words, and he wasn’t even sure how he felt about Shiro yet. They met in secret. They kissed a few times, and Keith scent-marked Shiro regularly. They talked about everything and nothing, and Shiro was always, always kind to Keith, pushing his bangs behind his ears or resting his chin on Keith’s head. His calming presence grounded Keith in a way few managed.

Shiro reminded Keith of the starry void of space, immense but constant, full of mystery and intrigue. Breathtaking and mind-blowing but in a subtle way that created awe. Yes, that was it. Keith was in awe of Shiro and his kind-hearted nature and reserved disposition, and he wasn’t sure how to begin to convey that.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Shiro said, his smile knowing. “I enjoy being with you. Here, on the ship, at the Unilu swap meets. I think you feel the same way, or you would stop dropping in.”

Keith nodded and glanced down at the necklace. “But – ”

“No buts.” Shiro covered Keith’s hand with his own. “We’re together now. Let’s agree. That’s enough.”

As Shiro drew Keith against his side and offered to buy him lunch, Keith worried that he might never get “enough” of Shiro.

* * *

Despite the Blade of Marmora being an elite group of space ninjas, they recruited for all levels of employment, from their highly-trained covert operatives to their modest-but-hard-working launders. Every evening, Keith deposited a dirty outfit in the appropriate receptacle outside of the communal showers, and a few quintaints later, he would find it on his bed cleaned and pressed.

That routine remained unchanged until he found a slip of paper clipped to his suit top. _Gloves are not the place to leave notes, as it is hazardous to your mission as well as to our service. Ask your mate to refrain from doing so in the future._

Underneath it was a second note, this one in Shiro’s easy script. _Spitfire – You’ll probably find this long after we’ve parted ways. No matter when you do, know I’ll be thinking of you. – S_

Keith taped the note inside the small alcove of his bed, right under his pillow where only he could see it.

* * *

Keith left his spacecraft near one of the Balmera’s moons and ventured by jetpack onto Sendak’s battlecruiser. He tried to ignore the undercurrent of excitement that vibrated just below his skin. He’d awoken to the new feeling just less than a movement ago, and he couldn’t seem to shake it, no matter how many times he rubbed the cleft of his chest. It was as if a soul suddenly tethered to his own and attempted to communicate but only managed to convey a rumble, perhaps a growl, and a few violent shifts of emotions.

Kolivan looked at him weirdly every time he gasped, but Keith crossed his arms and kept a blank expression until the end of the briefing. When he snuck out of the headquarters and jumped through hyperspace to the Javeeno Star System, the unusual feeling only grew in intensity, becoming more demanding, more insistent. Keith thought he might choke under its demanding pressure.

Shiro wasn’t in his bunk when Keith arrived, and it was so quiet, Keith caught the whispers of the universe. They sounded like the vicious, demanding growls of a possessive lion, watching over its cubs.

When Shiro entered his quarters a few dobashes later, he was preoccupied. He stopped and blinked at Keith, as if forgetting their meeting, before leaning down for a brief kiss. It paled in comparison to Shiro’s usual welcoming embraces, which always left Keith breathless.

After Shiro took a quick shower and changed into a more comfortable outfit – black jumpsuit and vest – he sat back on his bed, legs up, and fidgeted with his tablet. He seemed almost as unnerved as Keith felt.

“One of Commander Sendak’s main duties is to escort prisoners,” Shiro said after Keith asked. “A certain prisoner is more… _lively_ than the rest. Temperamental. I’m – I’m not sure we’re going to be able to hold him.”

“Really?” Keith rubbed his chest again. Why did it hurt so? “What makes him so powerful?”

A large screech shook the entire ship, following by a breathtaking roar that Keith felt echo in his very soul. Before he could catch his breath, Shiro jumped to his feet. “I’m sorry, Keith. You have no idea how much I want to be with you, but I’m the only one who can calm him down.” He wrung his right wrist, right where Keith’s scar lay on his own arm. “Stay as long as you can. I’ll try to return.”

Shiro’s kiss lingered longer this time, his gentle fingers caressing Keith’s cheek, a tender apology. It left Keith warm inside.

The feeling couldn’t sustain him, though. As soon as the door shut, Keith collapsed against the wall, chest heaving, lungs burning. Spots clouded in front of his eyes. Another growl rocked the ship, but it quickly turned into a pained cry. It tore through Keith’s chest, leaving him shuddering and weak. He used whatever strength remained to grip the hilt of his dagger, just in case someone other than Shiro came through the door.

A tiny buzz started Keith. Shiro left his tablet on the bed, and it vibrated with a message from “Red.”

Who in the ruggle was Red?

Though Keith knew he shouldn’t, a string in his very soul thrummed as if plucked, urging him to hit the accept button on the connection. Kolivan equally encouraged and warned Keith about following his instincts, but this time, Keith could feel the universe’s touch upon his finger.

Shiro’s nervous but resolute face popped up on the screen. He was sitting in a white and black chair with fire red accents, his skin bathed in the same reddish glow. “I’m…apparently going for a ride. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

Every moment Shiro moved farther and farther away, the deep ache in Keith’s chest worsened, even though the crippling drain upon his energy slowly eased.

Keith flipped onto his stomach, legs up and elbows tucked underneath him. “It’s okay. I’ll come back next movement.”

Shiro glanced away, obviously frustrated. “It’s been almost two movements since you last dropped in.” A deep blush swept across Shiro’s cheeks, close to matching the cockpit’s red lights. “I miss you.”

Keith heard nothing after that, though Shiro’s mouth continued to move. “I’ll come back sooner,” he promised, too quick, too eager. But Shiro’s head perked up and a smile broached his lips.

“Yeah? Can you?”

“I’ll find a way.” Keith couldn’t help the soft one that overcame his own. “I’ll…even if we have to meet up or something. Half way. We’ll make it work.”

“All right. That sounds – hey! Whoa! What are you doing?” A fierce growl sounded through the tablet, and the screen blurred through Shiro’s shouts. When it eventually cleared, Shiro was wiping sweat from his flushed face. “Can I, uh, call you back? I think someone is not happy with me at the moment.”

“Sure.” Keith willed away the pang in his chest. Was there someone there with Shiro? This _Red?_ And just where was Shiro? That wasn’t the usual Galran fighter cockpit.

“Hey, Spitfire.”

Keith looked up.

“My life can be categorized into two segments,” Shiro murmured. “‘Moments with Keith’ and ‘Moments without.’ Only one kind matters.”

Keith wished he could be there. He’d seize Shiro by the collar and tug him down into a fierce, demonstrative kiss, unleashing his fury of emotions upon Shiro. That was the only response he could think to give, one that would match the gift Shiro just gave him.

Words escaped him. They always did, and when Shiro said, “I’ll see you next movement,” Keith blurted, “I miss you, too! And sometimes my suit smells like you after I leave. Like lavender and pine. I like that.”

Shiro’s smile lit his face, and Keith captured the mental image, to let it soothe him until he held Shiro in his arms again.

* * *

Keith triple-checked his sensors and even reactivated the outpost’s cameras in order to confirm the Galra battleship landed. The readouts on his gauntlet were accurate.

“We’ve got incoming,” he informed, curt. “ETA three dobashes.”

Antok never looked up from the outpost’s console, where his fingers flew across the transparent keyboard. “How many?”

“Three. One commander, two officers. Two Galra.”

“Countdown from thirty ticks.”

Keith nodded, though Antok probably didn’t see it as he extracted as much data from the shipping logs as possible. With two dobashes left, the power in the darkened outpost hummed back to life along with the sentries. A few quick swipes of Keith’s blade, and the sentries collapsed to the floor again, this time in pieces.

A dobash later, and a rough but regal voice echoed from the hallway. At thirty ticks, Antok disconnected his gauntlet from the console and dashed toward the servers, Keith on his heels.

They slipped into the small room off the main control chamber as the doors to the control chamber slammed open, and the dull hum of quintessence announced the arrival of the Galran commander and his subordinates. Even with all his Marmora training, Keith still gasped when the bright magenta glow of Shiro’s arm washed over the outpost’s console.

Haxus, Sendak’s lieutenant commander, took the control position at the console, where Antok had stood. Sendak flanked him, while Shiro surveyed the room, powering down his arm when he found it empty of rebels or freedom fighters. He bent down by the fallen sentries, fingers brushing across the eloquent lines of Keith’s attack.

“The wounds are fine, smooth. Made by a blade.”

“All generators are back up and running, sir,” Haxus reported from the main console. “I’m currently running diagnostic checks on all systems for any indication of hardware failure and/or breech.”

“Very good, Haxus,” Sendak said and pivoted toward Shiro. “Sargent Major, check the servers for any physical alterations.”

Keith held his breath and shared a quick look with Antok, who gestured with his head. They parted, darting into the shadows of the room’s corner and darkening the glow of their uniform, but if Shiro looked too closely, he’d notice them. Though Antok was the Blade’s best fighter, Keith doubted they could take Sendak, his lieutenant commander, _and_ Shiro.

The door to the server room opened automatically, and the low hum of Shiro’s activated arm sliced through the silence. Keith held his breath and then barely kept silent when he saw the flash of Antok’s blade. Antok must have agreed with Keith’s assessment. They couldn’t take all three, so Antok decided to level the battlefield – by killing Shiro.

“Wait!” Keith hissed, diving from his hiding spot.

Shiro’s gaze snapped to Keith, and though he still wore his hood and mask, Shiro immediately recognized him. A nervous but radiant grin brightened Shiro’s face. Two quick strides brought Shiro up to Keith, hands seizing Keith’s covered cheeks and head lowering to take Keith’s lips for his own. The mask offered some resistance, but Shiro’s intense relief and affection bled through the thin cloth and chaste embrace.

Even with his eyes closed, Keith knew the moment Antok made his presence known. Shiro stiffened, and his hands fell from upon Keith’s cheeks. His fingers caressed Keith’s skin, leaving tingles in their wake, before he stepped back to put some distance between him and Keith.

Keith wanted to grab Shiro’s collar and tug him down again. Instead, he ended up swinging toward Antok, not sure what to say but knowing he’d have to explain something. Before he got a chance, a laser tore through the doors of the server room. The servers exploded on contact, sending Keith flying.

Keith’s ears rang as he struggled into a kneeling position. He quickly sought Antok, who switched his blade from his dominant right hand to his left and then rushed forward to engage Haxus. He blocked a few shots of the laser again, knocking the weapon out of the subordinate’s hand, before Haxus revealed his own blade. Shiro shot him a troubled glance – a warning – and then Keith rolled, coming to his feet in time to counter a swipe by Sendak’s claw.

“You should know better than to attack my sector!” Sendak roared, and Keith back-flipped out of his path before lunging forward. He combated more hits from Sendak’s claw but eventually, the large prothesis shot toward him like a projectile, hitting Keith in his crossed wrists and sending him flying backwards.

He tumbled to a stop as Sendak roared, coming down to slash him. A roll, a swipe, and he heard the pained shot from Shiro. Antok managed to draw a red line down Shiro’s arm, but the attack cost him. Haxus abandoned his sword for a blaster, and though Antok turned toward him, he would be too late. Unless Haxus missed, Antok would be dead within ticks.

The shout came from Keith’s gut, wrenched free by the agony of watching someone else he revered as family taken from him.

Except Shiro grabbed Antok’s hand with his flesh one, Keith saw, and spun in front of Haxus. To the Galran warrior, it would be appear that Antok used Shiro as a shield. To Keith, it was sacrifice.

Haxus already pulled the trigger by the time Shiro swung. As pain twisted Shiro’s face and tossed him away from Antok, tears stained Keith’s cheeks. Antok used the moment Shiro afforded him to stab Haxus. Movement sounded behind Keith, but Keith shifted out of the way of Sendak’s massive fist. The commander didn’t engage him again, instead using the space he created to get to Shiro’s side.

Before Keith could breathe, Antok was there, throwing him over his shoulder and carrying Keith toward the ship like he weighed nothing.

“No. _No!”_ He struggled, fingers digging into the back of Antok’s jumpsuit. “We have to go back! Shiro – He – He just saved us, and you’re abandoning him!”

“He is a Galra soldier.”

“But – But – Antok, he’s –”

“ – part of the empire.” But the words were fact, not an admonishment. “You have been having relations with a soldier of the empire.”

That didn’t matter. Not now. Didn’t Antok see that?

When Keith pounded Antok’s back, the larger Galra staggered and barely avoided the ground. Keith’s fist was wet. “Antok, you’re hurt!”

“I will be fine.” Antok’s gruff voice took on a sympathetic tone as he gripped Keith’s back, cradling him. “Sendak will help his subordinate where we cannot. I am sorry, kit.”

Antok needed medical attention and could only carry Keith. Keith, perhaps, could carry Shiro, but he wouldn’t be able to fight Sendak simultaneously. There wasn’t anything to say except, “He is mine, Antok. He’s…He’s mine.”

And Keith was leaving him to die.

_To Be Continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so late, peeps. I've been working on a RL project, but I'm hoping to get this next chapter up quicker. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith wants Shiro. Yes, that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay and the reload of the chapter. I wanted to get the spacing right. 
> 
> Mature content here!

Keith watched with bated breath through the grate above Shiro’s bed. The Galran doctors with long flaps covering their legs and masks running from ear to ear, made notes upon their tablets and changed Shiro’s IV. They said nothing, not to each other or to Shiro, the latter who watched them from the bed with half-lidded, untrusting eyes. The doctors seemed not to care, finishing up their tasks and leaving his room without any address or report.

After the count of three, Shiro reached for his tablet on the edge of his desk, probably to read about his progress, but let out a strained whine when he missed it. When he reached for it again, Keith scooped it up and placed it in Shiro’s grip.

Shiro started before a relieved smile dimpled his cheek. “You’re all right,” he muttered and reached for Keith this time.

Keith hesitated for only a moment before meeting Shiro’s beckon. He refused to push back his hood, though, or dissolve his mask, even as Shiro coaxed him to the bed.

“I asked Sendak what happened to you,” Shiro said, voice low and worried. “He just said you escaped. I – I wasn’t sure if you – ”

“We made it out,” Keith found the nerve to say. “If you hadn’t – ”

“Is your friend okay?”

So many thoughts bounced around Keith’s mind, and he couldn’t meet Shiro’s earnest gaze. Instead, he stared away, simply content to feel the warmth of Shiro’s hand against his glove. “He’s fine. He’s actually covering for me, so I can be here.” He struggled with the thought, let alone speaking it. “…You saved his life.”

“He’s a member of your group, right? Your family?”

Keith whirled toward Shiro, anger making his voice rough. _“You_ could have died.”

Shiro’s face scrunched in confusion before he leaned back upon his pillows, his expression eerily serene. “I agreed to work for the empire’s armed forces, Keith. I knew going in it was a life…Keith?”

Keith’s hand trembled. His mouth was dry, but his face was anything but.

With a tiny grunt, Shiro cradled Keith’s hand in his own, eyes pained from the strain upon his injured shoulder. “I’m okay, Keith,” he whispered. “I’m okay. I survived.”

Keith hadn’t known that. For almost an entire movement, he sat inside his room or outside of Antok’s crypod or fought dagger and claw on the training deck, tearing through combatant after combatant until he could hardly stand. He ignored Kolivan’s questioning glares and checked the databases continuously for Shiro’s name on the list of casualties. Afterwards, he huddled in the corner of his bed, trembling hand clutching his necklace.

The presence that shared his soul kept him company during those trying days. A warm breeze, like the wind coming off a fire, cradled his shoulders and held him like a blanket. Her purr echoed in his chest, but it failed to give him the reassurance he needed.

She had not been happy with Keith for leaving Shiro, growling and clawing in the back Keith’s mind as he and Antok escaped. Now, though, she rumbled, pleased and content with Keith’s discovery.

Shiro was alive, a firm and steady presence against Keith’s side, and shirtless from his exam. The stark contrast of the thick bandage over his shoulder and the thick scars darkening his skin pained Keith all over again.

“How many times have you done that?” Keith said, trying his best to keep his voice from cracking. “You can’t just forfeit your life for another.”

“It wasn’t just another life. It was someone close to you.”

“You’re close to me!”

The lion roared in the back of Keith’s mind, echoing his shout. Shiro stilled, and Keith took the opportunity to tug his hand away. He could feel Shiro’s gaze watching him, trying to read him, but he refused to meet Shiro’s eyes.

“Thank you for saving my…friend.” Uncle, brother, trainer. They were all titles that fit Antok. “But you – you need to be careful, too. If something were to happen to you…” he wouldn’t know until he came to see Shiro and found him gone.

The thought of the empty room and a life without Shiro’s gentle smiles and good-natured laughter was too much to bear. It had only been a few feebs since he dropped into Shiro’s quarters, but already, he barely remembered how he fell asleep without thinking of Shiro. How had he made it through the week without looking forward to their meetings? All his mission assignments came with an absentminded wonder if Shiro would be close by.

Keith allowed Shiro to consume his life, and the thought terrified him.

Shiro grunted his name when he pushed up and back to lay upon the pillows. His eyes were dark and clear in the low lighting, glowing in the shadows. “You don’t think that bothers me? You can find out if I died, Keith. It’s public knowledge, but if something were to happen to you…”

There would be no way for Shiro to know. Perhaps now Antok could deliver the message, and Shiro had crossed paths with Ulaz and Thace at some time. _Maybe._ But even then, no one would tell Shiro Keith never came back from a mission. Instead, he simply wouldn’t return.

How long would Shiro wait for him, until he realized Keith would never come back? Movements? Feebs? Forever?

Shiro lifted his good arm, a clear invitation for Keith to duck underneath it and curl against Shiro’s side. Instead, Keith stood, hands gripped at his sides in shuddering fists.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore,” Keith admitted, hating himself. His jaw felt heavy and tight. “Maybe it’ll be better if we – ”

“It…scares me, more than I’d like to admit,” Shiro said, self-depreciating smile all the more aching to see, “but you’re worth it, Keith.” His fingers dug into the sterile bedsheets, clenching the white cloth in his fist. “You’re the only thing that matters in this universe. If everything I had to go through was for a reason, then I am grateful it led me to you.”

“I left you there,” Keith divulged, heat rolling down his cheeks, his lion huffing just beyond his shoulders. “Antok was hurt, and I left you there to die.”

Shiro’s eyebrows rose, eyes widening, before he let out what sounded like a relieved sigh. He reached out again, fingers furling. “So that’s what’s bothering you.”

Shiro was _his._ Keith wasn’t exactly sure how to refer to Shiro, but he wanted them to be more than they were. He wanted to wake up next to Shiro, his mate reeking of his scent. He wanted to watch Shiro as he slept, chest rising and falling and tugging on those taut muscles. He wanted to bury his face in Shiro’s neck, wrap his arms around those strong shoulders, and never let go.

When Shiro curled his fingers again and sent Keith a tiny frown, Keith obliged. He took hold and yelped when Shiro tugged him onto the bed. Keith sat on the edge and didn’t flinch when Shiro released his mask and pushed back his hood.

_“Keith…”_

His cheeks were tight and wet, still drying from the tears. Shiro leaned forward, grunting as he did so, to rest his own cheek against Keith’s.

“I wanted you to leave.”

“But I didn’t want to.”

“We can’t always do what we want. You’re important to so many people. I’m sure of it.”

A half-Galran orphan, taken in by a secret organization and raised to infiltrate and kill? He wasn’t even tall enough to pass for a solider, and Kolivan’s plans never actualized the way he intended when Keith was on a mission. Even his new lion hated the way he abandoned Shiro.

“But I’m one soldier for the empire,” Shiro continued, pulling away just enough to cradle Keith’s hands in his own. “If something were to happen to me, no one would miss me, and they shouldn’t. They really – ”

“I would,” Keith affirmed, heart thundering his chest.

Shiro smiled, though it was a mockery of his usual cheerful grins. “Thank you, Keith, but your family was right. Perhaps I am a monster and a savage, and it probably would be best if you – ”

“Why do you stay in the empire?” Keith challenged, hands gripping Shiro’s now. “You could leave. Go wherever – ”

“I doubt your organization would welcome a former soldier of the empire, and there is no where I could go that Sendak wouldn’t find me. And even if there was, there’s no guarantee he wouldn’t destroy my planet in retribution for any perceived crimes.”

“It can’t be as hopeless as you believe.”

“It’s not,” Shiro said and drew Keith close for a quick peck on the cheek. “I have you, or at least, I hope I still do.”

Keith looked up at Shiro, seeing the earnest gaze in his eyes, and looked away. “I…I can’t protect you. Not the way…a – a mate should.”

Shiro let out a tiny whine as he shifted closer. His hair tickled Keith’s forehead. “Don’t. Just…come to me. When you can. That’s all I can ask.”

Perhaps that was all Keith could give. This time when Shiro lifted his good arm, Keith crawled over his waist, careful not to jostle the bed too much, and tucked his shoulder against Shiro’s. He lay with his head upon Shiro’s chest, content to hear the steady rhythm of his heart and the warmth of his skin. Shiro’s lavender and vanilla scent wasn’t as strong as usual, but it was still there. It wasn’t enough, however. Keith needed to know that when he returned to the Blade base and closed his eyes, this hadn’t been a fever dream of a broken mate.

Shiro rested his cheek upon the top of Keith’s head and took a deep sigh. “You’ll scent-mark me, right? Before you go.”

“Yeah.”

But he needed more. The quintaints of simply seeing Shiro weren’t enough. He needed all of him, in all the ways Ulaz had explained once. Today, Keith would have to make due with scent-marking, but as Shiro dipped his head back and began to doze, Keith nuzzled against his side and resolved to claim Shiro properly as his.

* * *

Keith finished his mission in five quintaints, instead of the seven Kolivan allotted him. He should have returned to the base, sparred with Antok, finished any tasks Kolivan needed done, rested.

Instead, he decided to spend the last two quintaints on a quiet planet located in Sendak’s system. Arus. The Galra studied it, deemed it barbaric, and left it to its own devices. But to Keith it was paradise, a world at peace, untouched by the poisonous mechanisms of the empire.

Perhaps it was selfish – Keith was Galra, after all – but he landed near a large white castle and sent a coded message to Shiro.

A Galra fighter landed next to Keith’s a few vargas later. Shiro jumped out, and after only seeing him in the dark corner of battle cruisers and under the florescent lights of the Space Mall, Keith never imagined what Shiro would look like in the golden hues of a sunset. His eyes practically glowed, his skin glistened, and the natural shadows cast him a vulnerable look.

The way Shiro looked at him, like Shiro’s entire universe centered around him – Keith thought he may never be able to breathe again.

“Are you all right?” Shiro asked, starting forward. He caught Keith by the forearms, hands running up along the muscles to check for injuries. “When I received your message, I thought – ”

Keith captured his hands, threading their fingers together and squeezing. “Can you stay? For a bit? Is that all right?”

“Sendak is currently stationed at a nearby space port. He gave me the next few quintaints off, but are you – ”

Keith slid his arms about Shiro’s waist, fingers clenching the back of Shiro’s armor, and pressed his face against the hard cuirass.

Shiro’s hand came up to cradle the back of Keith’s head; his voice was ragged and barely loud enough to be heard. _“Keith…”_

When Keith raised his eyes, Shiro was staring at him with that look of wonder and want, and then he bowed his head. The press of his lips was tentative, questioning, and Keith responded by holding Shiro’s cheek and pressing up on his toes. The kiss deepened, pooling desire low and thick in Keith’s belly. Red purred in delight and encouragement in the back of Keith’s mind, and Keith thought he caught the sound of a second lion, deeper and richer, adding its approval.

When Shiro’s arms encircled his waist, Keith stepped into the hollow of Shiro’s stance. Shiro moaned when his tongue slipped past his lips, and the vibrations curled Keith’s toes and hardened his groin. The proof of Shiro’s arousal pressed against him.

Their chests heaved when they broke. “You – Keith…” Shiro pressed his forehead against Keith’s and tightened his grip, ensconcing Keith in his arms. “You asked me here to…be together?”

Keith forced himself to nod, though his cheeks burned. “Do you want to be… _with_ me?”

“Of course, but are you sure? I’m…I’m not Galra, Keith.” His closed eyes didn’t hide his troubled expression. “And I’m not – you deserve someone who can give you everything, not – not a damaged gladiator who barely makes it from one day to the next.”

“That’s not you.” Keith frowned. “And you deserve someone who will give you all of them.”

Keith couldn’t. He had too many secrets, too many unknowns about his own past. There would always be a wall between them, but Shiro’s hands were warm and kind against his cheeks. His thumbs pressed against Keith’s Galra markings not to cover but to embrace.

“I don’t deserve you,” Shiro said.

Tears stung the corner of Keith’s eyes, but Shiro kissed them away, one after the other.

“But I’m selfish, Keith. I’ll take whatever you’ll let me have and cherish it.”

Shiro lifted Keith, so Keith could wrap his legs about Shiro’s waist for the trip back to the ship. The makeshift quarters had a bed large enough to accommodate a full-grown Galran and fit them both comfortably. Shiro lowered Keith onto the bed, first hovering over him before taking his lips in a lazy embrace.

Keith drew his sleeping blade, placed it against Shiro’s stomach, and sliced through his belt.

“Get on with it already.”

“Geez. You _are_ demanding.”

Keith reached out to start unclipping Shiro’s armor. “Are you going to make me do all the work here?”

“Are you into that sort of thing?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “This is my first time. How am I supposed to know what I’m into or not?”

A trail of tender kisses led from Keith’s temple to the corner of his mouth, where Shiro whispered, “It’s my first time, too, and I can definitely tell you a demanding Keith is hot.”

Keith held Shiro’s face still in order to stare into his eyes. “Yeah?”

A lovely shade of pink swept across Shiro’s cheeks while the tips of his ears burned a bright red. “Yes.”

With a challenging smirk, Keith gripped Shiro by the shoulder and waist and tossed him onto his back. Then, he went to work, tearing off Shiro’s chest-plate and throwing it across the room. His arm and ankle cuffs followed. The suit gave Keith some resistance, but he refused to relent until it lay on the floor next to the rest of Shiro’s uniform. Straddled fully clothed over his naked warrior, Keith surrendered to the truth. Shiro was his lover, his mate, and the eventuality of forever. Staring into those shimmering, warm eyes, Keith wondered if anyone had seen Shiro so open. It made Keith want to mark Shiro, bring him back to the Blade headquarters, and never let anyone harm him again.

Shiro gripped Keith’s waist and twisted to lay Keith upon his back, and bit by bit, bared not just Keith’s body but also his soul. Keith wanted to yell again, but it was difficult to object to the grounding touches upon his hip and thigh, the warm kisses to his collarbone and shoulder, and the marks that decorated his pale skin.

Shiro’s massive arms cradled Keith, keeping him safe and secure. His hand began to lower as his lips once more descended upon Keith’s. Keith’s legs hitched up, coming to wrap about Shiro’s waist, and his chin jerked up to encourage Shiro. His body grew hot, his skin tight and glistening, unable to contain everything he felt. He twitched and huffed, writhing but demanding more, harder, _yes!_ His body responded enthusiastically to Shiro’s intimate touches, tightening and fluttering against Shiro’s cool, slick fingers.

Kisses accompanied whispered questions, demanding Keith reassure Shiro of his comfort and pleasure, and by the time Shiro drew Keith’s knees over those thick thighs and pressed into him, Keith was a trembling mess, a stream of desperate pleas and muttered admissions.

Keith struggled to breathe, and Shiro helped him adjust. Shiro’s fingers carded through his hair; his lips dusted kisses across Keith’s jaw. With Keith’s own arousal thick and trapped between them, Keith tugged on the back of Shiro’s hair and demanded, _“Move.”_

Shiro smiled and obeyed.

He dragged out before pushing back in, a slow but steady rhythm that forced Keith to feel all of him. Keith grunted and flinched, muttering for more, faster, _come on,_ , and Shiro leaned over him to catch his nipple and tease it into a hard, pointy peak. Keith began a litany of promises and admissions, hooking a leg about Shiro’s back and digging his heel into Shiro’s ass to bring him closer.

Shiro rolled his hips and pounded Keith’s backside, his pace increasing along with Keith’s quickened breaths. Keith squeezed his legs. Shiro let out a noise that was positively raw and obscene, and Keith choked when Shiro curled about him. Looping his arms about Shiro’s neck, Keith pulled him down for a kiss, but he could barely keep their lips together through the violent snaps of Shiro’s hips.

A few long swipes and deep, drawing thrusts filled Keith with an intense heat, and looking up at Shiro’s eyes, he thought he saw the entire universe within them – its endless void, its sparkling stars, its breathtaking beauty. He felt connected to something bigger, to something powerful and immense, and spread his thighs wider and arched his back to accept Shiro time and time again. He rode the waves of power and pleasure, and tumbled over the edge with a sharp cry. In the back of his mind, Red let out of a thunderous roar as he came, and with a few more thrusts and a strained grunt, Shiro followed along with his lion.

It ended all too soon, in Keith’s opinion, but the pleasure clung to him as his legs fell to Shiro’s side and Shiro settled between his thighs. His mind still spun, his senses returning in their own time, but with Shiro’s arms tight about his torso, head resting just under Keith’s chin, Keith didn’t think there could be a more perfect moment.

As his claws brushed the small hair on Shiro’s nape, soft thrills lingered on the edge of Keith’s hearing, accompanied by tiny reverberations in his chest. Shiro lifted his head. “Are you… _purring?”_

“What is…purring?”

Shiro just smiled, a stupid amused little grin, and reached up to ruffle Keith’s hair just behind his ear. The sound grew louder. Keith retaliated with a swift kick to Shiro’s side.

Over those forty vargas, Keith explored Shiro’s body fully, finding bliss between the warrior’s thighs, in his backside, and even by his mouth. He found ways to unwind Shiro completely, that spilled wonderful confessions from those shimmering lips, and caused his body to react in such beautiful ways. Likewise, Shiro made sure he was completely satisfied until Keith could barely move, his body aching in a deliciously satisfied manner.

After they cleaned up the first night and lay in each other’s arms, Keith studied Shiro’s golden skin and pleasant features. Human, Earthling, non-Galran. Here, in the Galra Empire, Shiro was perfect as he was.

They lounged in bed, embracing lazily with lingering touches and good-natured laughter. Eventually, once they quieted and relaxed, Keith’s sharp fingers traced the raised scar tissue of Shiro’s chest, the V predominant in the most horrendous of ways.

“Do you believe in fate?”

Shiro was silent, staring up at the ceiling. His thoughtful gaze eventually fell to Keith’s wrist and its unfortunate scar. “I didn’t. Not really, but then I met you.” He took Keith’s wrist with a gentle, worshipping hold, then pressed his lips to the raised skin. “How did you get it?”

Keith rested his head in the crook of Shiro’s shoulder as Red let out a tiny mewl. “Our ship got boarded by some sentries. Don’t remember why. They – to Dad…They…” He shook his head to rid his mind of the stinging memories. “…They called me a runt and a half-breed. Said I should be killed since I’d most likely die in a work camp anyway. I fought, and one of their swords caught me here. But I kept going. I wasn’t going to die there.

“When I came to, I was already in the stronghold of my new family. The… _leader_ of my group had stolen me from the ship’s holding cell and brought me home.”

Home. A new one but just as loving as his father’s ship, with Galran fighters who cared for him like their own. He _became_ their own, and he had a family again.

And now Keith had Shiro, too.

“How about yours?”

Shiro’s fingers stilled on Keith’s back, but he relaxed into Keith’s hold. “I got it in the arena,” he murmured, voice lost in thought and thick with emotion. “I was fighting a larger opponent, a monster known as Myzax. I’d already battled earlier in the day, but the guards had wanted to send an injured prisoner to fight. I took his place.”

“Why?” Keith blinked and sat up. “Why would you do that?”

Shiro shrugged. “It was the right thing to do. He would have died in the arena. I at least had a chance.”

When Keith settled upon Shiro’s chest, he reveled in the steady heartbeat and soothing warmth, though he couldn’t quite stifle the undercurrent of uneasiness under his skin. Just how close had he come to never meeting Shiro, never finding his mate?

“I almost gave up,” Shiro murmured, a confession no doubt. “Myzax kept coming, and he was bigger than me. Stronger. I thought there was no way I could win against him, and I’d already been in the arena for…awhile. Not sure how long. I thought – maybe this was how it was supposed to end.”

“What kept you going?” Keith forced himself to ask when Shiro’s voice failed.

Shiro sighed, fingers dancing across Keith’s bare back. “It was something the other prisoner said to me. I don’t remember the exact words. It was something like – don’t die.”

Keith started. “That’s it?”

“At that moment, I figured there were better ways to die. Not by Myzax’s hand. Not there. Not then. My death had to have meaning. There had to be something left for me to do.”

“Like what?”

Shiro looked at Keith and winked. Keith’s cheeks immediately flushed, and he smacked Shiro’s shoulder. Laughing, Shiro rolled with the hit and managed to pull Keith on top of him. A quick breath led into another heated embrace. Keith simply melted against him and surrendered to his mate’s touch.

Even with the bruises and aches and inevitability of their parting, those few quintaints with Shiro were something out of a dream. He woke to Shiro’s soft snores and gentle caresses. They bathed in the nearby stream and dried by the warmth of the Arusian sun. If Keith closed his eyes, he wondered if he could forget the rest of the universe, the war, the empire, and live the rest of his life in blissful ignorance alongside his mate.

When the last vargas eventually came, Keith took his time dressing Shiro, snapping the armor into place before apologizing for the lost belt. While Shiro sat on the edge of the bed, Keith stepped between Shiro’s knees and circled his arms about Shiro’s neck.

“I’ll drop in later in the movement. This mission was supposed to be more difficult than my leader thought, so I should get a few days off.”

Shiro’s hands held Keith’s hips loosely. “You have enough bruises to support your story.”

Keith huffed. “Not where you put them.”

Shiro laughed and pulled Keith close again, burying his face in Keith’s upper chest. Keith brushed the back of his hair, dread keeping his body still in Shiro’s hold. Shiro must have noticed because he pulled away a moment later, though he didn’t let go completely.

“Something wrong?”

Keith sighed and fidgeted with a rather sharp point of Shiro’s armor. “There’s something you need to know. About Galrans.” Shiro remained quiet, waiting, forcing Keith to divulge, “We mate for life.”

Confusion swept through Shiro’s expression. “So…one and done?”

“No.” Keith focused on the shimmering point that glistened in the overhead light. “There’s a bonding period with courting rituals and traditional gifts. And something about scents and lingering touches.” If Keith remembered Ulaz’s explanations. He zoned out through half of them, and the other half he tried to forget.

Keith glimpsed at Shiro’s face from behind his bangs, then quickly looked away when he saw the smooth, affection gaze. He wanted to turn his back, but Shiro prevented him with gentle pressure upon his hips.

“Okay, so how do we start?”

Keith blinked, taken back. “What?”

“You brought me here to begin the courting rituals, right?” Shiro stood then, eyes growing dark and suspicious. “Or are we already bonded? Or – ”

“I bond with you,” Keith admitted in a pitiful whisper. “I don’t think you bond with me.”

“Oh.” Shiro’s eyes shot wide, and Keith felt smaller than his already shortened height. He squirmed underneath Shiro’s trembling hands as his mate finally grasped the truth.

Keith wanted to keep Shiro in his heart for the rest of his life, even if Shiro didn’t feel the same way. Even if he would never feel the same way. After the outpost, followed by their talk in Shiro’s quarters – Keith wanted Shiro, even if he couldn’t have all of Shiro.

Shiro ducked his head, taking Keith’s lips for a kiss that Keith couldn’t return just then. “Hey, look at me. …Come on, look – there’s no one else.”

Keith huffed and crossed his arms. There _literally_ was no one else. Keith was the only other human this side of the Milky Way Galaxy.

“I’m serious, Keith. There’ll never be anyone else.”

“You can’t say that.” Shiro wasn’t Galra. Shiro didn’t understand that Keith physically couldn’t be without him, without smelling him or seeing or being within a solar system of him. And if Shiro ever made it home –

Shiro’s chest plate stole Keith’s breath when Shiro drew him close. “Look, maybe I don’t feel what you do, but just this week, there’d been three people alone – a commander, a sentry, and a Druid. I said no to two and ignored the third.”

When Keith cocked his head to the side, Shiro laughed, “You don’t say no to a Druid, Keith, but I could pretend not to hear him.” He brought Keith close again and muttered, “No one else, Keith, and there’ll never be anyone else. You and me, all right? For as long as you’ll have me.”

Keith couldn’t find the words to say, throat suddenly tight and his voice missing, but he managed a quick nod.

“Good,” Shiro smiled, and this time, Keith indulged Shiro’s request when his mate sat back and pulled him into his lap. They kissed over and over again, each embrace more heated than the last, until Shiro lifted Keith’s exposed wrists to his neck. “Scent-mark me?”

Keith had already done that when Shiro exited the shower. “Your nose can’t pick up the smell.”

“Yeah, but everyone else’s can. I want them to know I’m taken.”

Just like the necklace around Keith’s neck, the only thing he wore, marked him as Shiro’s.

* * *

Arus became a second home to them, a place far away from the empire’s clutches, and undeveloped enough where they could hide from the locals without fear of being discovered. Keith tried to always bring a ship with sleeping quarters, but sometimes they made due, resting on a blanket or huddling in the single seat of Shiro’s fighter.

As they lay under the dark sea of stars, a sadness lingered in Shiro’s eyes and tugged down the corners of his lips. Resignation settled into movements, making them tender and solacing. After twenty-eight feebs, five quintaints, four vargas, and six dobashes – not that Keith was counting, Keith could tell when something was bothering Shiro.

When he cradled Shiro’s cheek and implored, “What is it?” he gasped as Shiro turned his cheek and press a tearful kiss into Keith’s palm.

“This is the last time we’ll see each other.”

Keith’s world immediately crumpled. His lion – Red, he began to call her – snarled, and Keith barely managed to utter, “W-What?”

Shiro wouldn’t his gaze, instead turning into his cupped hand. “I’ve been assigned a mission.”

“A mission?” Keith sprung up on the blanket and glared down upon the lethargic Shiro. “What mission? Where are you going?”

“Somewhere you can’t follow.”

“Bullshit,” Keith spat; Red agreed with a hiss. “You’re an officer in the empire. Your mission can’t be – ”

“You never speak of your missions,” Shiro said, the flames of their campfire casting him in an eerie, reddish glow. “Don’t ask me to speak of mine.”

“But you’re – you said this is it.” This couldn’t be their last meeting. “Where can you possibly go that I can’t find you?”

Shiro waited, eyes calm and thoughtful as if he knew Keith would eventually work out the issue in his mind. Once he did, Keith’s entire world shattered.

“You’re – You’re not planning to live.”

Shiro sighed and flopped onto his back, eyes shimmering in the low light of the fire. “When I first left Earth, all I wanted to do was touch the sky. That was it. I never imagined all the worlds I’d see or the people I’d meet. I could even do worse than Sendak as my CO.”

Keith couldn’t find it in his soul to settle down next to Shiro and instead beseeched the same stars.

“But there has always been something out here, Keith, something pulling me toward space.” He finally glanced over at Keith with that stupid, love-struck smile he sometimes wore. “It could have been anything, but I like to think it’s you.”

Keith’s tongue remained still, his jaw heavy.

“It’ll be okay, Keith,” Shiro assured, fingers curling about Keith’s and holding them tightly. “If I can go out doing some good for the universe, then everything will have been worth it.”

Leaving Keith would be worth it?

“We were never meant to be together, not forever at least,” Shiro said, ruthlessly patient. “I’ve done too much. The arena, the empire – changed me. Maybe I’m a monster or a savage or whatever the Blades called me, and if this is the only way to absolve me of those crimes – ”

“You’re not.” Keith lurched forward, gripping Shiro’s metal hand in his own. “You’re anything but – ”

_“Keith.”_

Keith silenced at the desperate please.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Keith listened to the faint whirl of gears as Shiro’s fingers moved to hold Keith’s, felt the cool, smooth surface against his own, and ducked his head to bring the back of Shiro’s hand against his cheek.

“No.”

Shiro’s glistening eyes flicked to his, and the fiery glow of the campfire cast dark shadows across his scar. He appeared much younger than his twenties.

“You don’t get to leave that easily. My mom did and my dad, too. I’m done accepting people walking out on me.” He gripped Shiro’s hand tighter, like he could prevent Shiro from leaving if he just never let go. “I’m not letting you.”

“Keith, this isn’t my – ”

“Yes, it is.” Keith held Shiro’s arm, dropping it close to his chest. “Do you…Do you want to leave?”

He needed to know. If Shiro _wanted_ to leave, then Keith wouldn’t force him to stay, no matter what it would mean for Keith. He’d find some way to survive, to continue without his chosen mate, but his world continued to turn when Shiro shook his head. Shiro’s voice left no room for confusion.

“Of course not.”

“Then do whatever it is have to do. I’ll find you.” He pressed his fingers to the smooth metal curve of Shiro’s knuckles. “I’ll save you.”

Shiro didn’t reply, but as the fire popped and crackled, a warmth settled in Keith’s heart. He thought it was his soul. Even though he’d found a piece with Red, it wasn’t until he claimed Shiro that it finally became whole.

_To Be Continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG. Season 6 is almost here! Stop on by my [Tumblr](https://ptw30.tumblr.com/) to cheer, rant, or just say hi!


	4. Chapter 4

The universe stole Keith’s soul, and he couldn’t find it. 

A movement passed. Then another. And another. Keith’s missions didn’t bring him close to wherever Shiro went, and Keith looked. He searched any data scripts he stole, double-checked the Blade archives, toiled over any official empire documents, and a movement became a phoeb. 

Keith had never realized how many of his missions had taken him near his mate. It occurred to him far too late, more than three phoebs without seeing Shiro and simply staring at yet another disappointing account, that so many of his missions had crossed with Sendak’s transportation routes. The missions that went a bit easier than they should have, that allowed him extra time and brought him within proximity to Arus – it was as if everything had been orchestrated to allow him reprieve with his mate. 

When Kolivan entered his quarters, Keith made no gesture to cover his work, the data still up on Keith’s gauntlet’s transparent screen. He only looked up once Kolivan stood before him, his surrogate grandfather’s eyes hard but understanding. 

“You knew,” Keith accused. 

Kolivan stood firm and unmoving before he came to sit next to Keith. “Antok was…insistent that you had time to yourself.”

When Keith simply stared at the scrolling information, Kolivan reached over to hit off the gauntlet and lower Keith’s hand. 

“I promised I’d find him,” Keith answered. “I promised I’d save him.”

“It is not your job to – ”

“Wouldn’t you follow Antok anywhere?” 

Perhaps the question itself was flawed – Antok followed Kolivan – but the Blades reciprocated in their affections. 

Kolivan patted Keith’s hand. “You must take heart that wherever your mate is, he is fighting for the right reasons.”

Just what those were, Keith wasn’t even sure anymore. Universal peace? It was unattainable in their lifetime. An honest living? Shiro was an officer in the Galra Empire’s armed forces. To save others from a life serving Zarkon? How could anyone hope for such a gift?

Red mewled in the back of his mind and pressed high on his back, directly between the shoulder blades. Keith wanted to relax against her, even if he couldn’t see her, but with Kolivan nearby, he needed to keep a calm demeanor. He shifted his focus, trying to stir enough courage from his empty heart. 

“He shouldn’t have left.”

“It is difficult to be away from one’s mate, but you will find ways to survive, just like he has.”

Keith didn’t want to think of the implications, and he banished any runaway thoughts from his mind. 

Kolivan’s large arm beckoned Keith underneath it, and Kolivan held him close. “You are a fighter, Keith. Keep fighting.”

Keith set his heart. Shiro was loyal to him, loved him, swore there would be no one else. He wouldn’t sway. He’d fight to return to Keith’s side; Keith was sure of it. 

Keith just needed to have patience and endure. 

“I have a mission to take your mind off this,” Kolivan said, soft but firm. “One of the utmost importance.” 

Her name was Krolia. 

One of Renvig’s lieutenants, she was also an undercover operative for the Blade of Marmora, and Kolivan sent Keith to extract her and destroy a super weapon.

After Krolia led Keith to the bowels of the base, Renvig had attacked. Despite Keith’s best efforts, Renvig bound Keith’s wrists behind his back, while Krolia reclaimed his blade and fought with it. She even managed to put it to sleep before surrendering to Renvig. 

“What are you doing!” Keith shouted. 

“I left you once,” Krolia murmured. “I’ll never leave you again.”

Before Keith could ask what Krolia meant, she made a deal with Renvig to let them go in exchange for the weapon’s release sequence. When Keith launched their fighter into space, he scanned for any lifeforms, and within dobashes, the base only had one. 

Well, he managed to complete one of his two assigned tasks. Keith decided to call the mission a success, though he had lingering questions. He’d never seen any other members of Marmora fight with another’s blade. How could Krolia wield his?

“Because it used to be mine once,” she said, then closed her eyes and sighed, “before I gave it to your father.”

Keith’s hands shook. His heart thundered in his chest. “You’re my…mom?”

“Yes.” She hesitated but eventually placed both hands upon Keith’s shoulders. As if acting on impulse, she tugged him against her. 

It took Keith a moment to process the hard armor against his cheek and the familiar smell of his pack but eventually his own hands climbed up to grip her torso. 

So many questions lingered, and Krolia was noticeably uncomfortable when answering some of them. But she answered them – how she met Keith’s father, why she left Earth, why she left him with the Blades.

Eventually, as the movements passed and Krolia joined Keith every day for meals and sparring, she asked her own questions. “Whom do you search for?”

He’d shown Kolivan and even Antok, but hid the necklace from everyone else. Now, he extracted it for Krolia to see. “My mate. He is an enlisted soldier in the Galran Army, serving under Sendak.”

“You miss him.”

“I don’t see him anymore. He’s been gone for almost five phoebs, and I can’t find him.” Hurt and frustration tainted his voice, but he eventually released them with a shuddering sigh. “I promised I’d save him.”

Krolia looked away, her eyes speaking of her own pain. “Perhaps sometimes the hardest thing we can ever do is let go of those we love. It’s better for them, Keith.”

“Like you left me?”

“I would have done anything to stay with you.” Her hand gripped his, but it was an unwanted gesture. “But I needed to be embedded in Zarkon’s army. I needed to put an end to his reign, and being part of the Blade and working on in the inside allowed me to do that.”

“Shiro isn’t one of us.”

“But we have a similar goal. I cannot imagine anyone you’d love could be loyal to Zarkon.” She squeezed his clenched fist. “Whatever he needed to do, I’m sure it was for a good reason.”

“He didn’t want to do it,” Keith said, belatedly. “I saw the look in his eyes. He was scared, frightened. They – They forced him to do it.”

“Sendak?”

“I don’t know, but whoever it was – they took him away from me. I will make them regret it.” 

Krolia let out a strangled noise, but when Keith looked up, her face remained impassive, hard rather than emotionless. Before Keith could ask, Krolia turned and left the training deck. 

Less than a movement later, Kolivan recalled him and Antok from a mission in the Yggiz Galaxy, and Keith found himself numb as Kolivan explained the situation. 

Zarkon was dead. 

It seemed impossible. For more than 10,000 years, Zarkon had courted fear and misery, conquering more than ninety-five percent of the known universe. He enslaved countless lifeforms, killed more, and ushered in an age of despair.

Even though Keith fought Zarkon’s reign since as far back as he could remember, Keith wasn’t sure he ever thought it was possible to topple the Galra Empire. No one could kill Zarkon, the former Black Paladin of Voltron. 

“H-How?” he croaked. 

Kolivan shifted, breaking eye contact. His gaze returned, hard and stiff. 

“Zarkon was killed with his own bayard, the signature weapon of the Black Paladin of Voltron.”

Keith heard the stories as a child. There was no need for Kolivan to elaborate, so he didn’t. The bayards could only be wielded by those the lions selected. 

Which meant Zarkon had been killed by his successor, the new Black Paladin. 

The implication rocked Keith as a mighty, fierce roar resounded in his mind. Red. Her tone was desperate, pained, and it sent his heart pounding in an uneasy rhythm. He almost reached out to Krolia for balance, but a cool, soothing presence smothered the fire in his heart and spread a tingling sensation from the tip of his head to his toes. 

Krolia sent him a concerned gaze, but Keith ignored her as Kolivan came to stand before him. “Keith, you will be removed from active duty for the next few movements.”

“What? Why!”

“The next few movements will be chaos for the Galra Empire. Selecting a new emperor at the Kral Zera will be priority.”

“That doesn’t explain why you don’t want me to be part of whatever you’re strategizing.” 

The Kral Zera would bring all the highest commanders and their subordinates to Planet Feyiv in order the coronate the next emperor. The Blade of Marmora would take the opportunity to kill the empire’s remaining commanders, perhaps even Haggar and her Druids. It would be the perfect chance to stop the next commander who would win the throne, the most likely candidate being – 

Keith’s eyes shot wide. His hands shuddered. His heart thundered out of his chest, and it felt like he’d just run a marathon. 

_“Shiro._ Shiro’s going to be at the Kral Zera.”

And Kolivan wasn’t planning on extracting him. 

“The situation is more dire than you realize, Keith.” Krolia reached out to brush a wayward strand from his face and tuck it behind his ear. “Even if we can isolate your mate, we have reason to believe he has been compromised by Haggar. We can’t take the risk that he may – ”

“He works for Sendak,” Keith said. “Shiro’s an enlisted soldier. Why would Haggar have any need for him?”

Krolia looked to Kolivan, whose eyebrows lowered and face hardened. “We must do what is right for the mission. It always comes first, Keith – ”

Keith opened his mouth to argue, but Kolivan quickly interrupted, voice raised, “ – but we are exhausting all avenues to extract your mate. You, however, will be emotionally compromised. You will only be a danger to yourself, Shiro, and the mission. The best thing you can do is help Antok and Regris coordinate communications, so all Blades will be in position for the event.”

Keith schooled his features, holding his anger in his balled fists and bit lip. Perhaps this was the mission Shiro spoke about. The Kral Zera. Sendak. Zarkon. And now the Blades were going to take out the entire ceremony and every officer along with it. 

Keith refused to let that happen. He made a promise to Shiro – he would find his mate and they’d be together again – and Keith kept his promises. 

A venomous roar tore through his mind. It shook Keith’s very foundation, but unlike the other times Red called to him, his feet rocked under him. The other Blades gripped the walls, and when Keith turned to see his parents, Kolivan muttered to Krolia, “Did you hear that?”

The entire base jerked, and Keith slammed into the nearest wall. Another roar blared. Parts of the ceilings crashed into the corridor. The screens inside the command chamber cracked and snowed over. As another blast rocked the headquarters, images slammed into Keith – too many for his grasp. He only captured a few, many with an older, regal man with white hair and beard, clear but daring eyes, and a warm smile. 

Keith sought the warmth. He remembered it. He welcomed it. 

Red. 

Red came to get him. 

Keith asked only one question, “Why now?”

That cool sensation swept through Keith again, calming him, centering him. Unlike the fiery core of Red, this feeling created a sense of awe. It felt familiar and comforting. 

It didn’t remind Keith of Shiro. It _was_ Shiro, calling to him. 

Keith spared Kolivan and Krolia one last look. Kolivan’s brows lifted in an obvious question, but Krolia mouthed, _Go._

Keith went. 

Boulders from the rock ceiling shattered against the floor as Keith made his way through the base’s corridors. The simmering that had settled in his heart after his visit to Shiro’s ship grew in intensity with every step. The core of his being came alive, burning in the fire of love and delight, and as Keith came to the transparent shield that separated the hanger from the expanse of space, his mouth dropped open and his breath hitched. 

Twin glowing yellow eyes set upon him, sunken into the vibrant ship that glimmered in the blue glow of the stars. The longing that once lived in his bones gave way, replaced by a gentle affection and a warm embrace. 

“Hey, Kitty,” Keith greeted, awe mixing with shock and anticipation, and he hit on his mask. His thrusters kicked in, and he soared through the transparent screen, hand lifted. He hesitated just a moment, fingertips inches away from Red’s snout. With an impatient huff, Red met him the rest of the way, until Keith’s palm lay flat against Red’s metal. Hundreds of images assaulted Shiro at once. 

Keith shouted, struggling to find some ground, but every second made the message clearer. 

_Voltron. Black. Shiro. Help. Now._

Red opened her jaws, welcoming Keith inside. The moment his feet touched her ramp, the incredible heat of the hottest star bathed Keith in its flames, and he staggered before falling to his knees. But Red was there, hitting his hip and urging him forward. When he finally collapsed into the pilot’s chair, hands resting upon the controls, Red’s purr reverberated through his body and thrummed his soul. Whatever connection he felt with her strengthened and completed; the universe’s very heartbeat thundered his chest. 

Red nudged him, asking for permission, and he willingly gave it. 

“Show me,” Keith said. “Take me where you need me to go.”

Red shot off in a tick, and Keith gasped at where her navigation directed. 

Arus. 

The shimmering castle had served as a majestic backdrop to Shiro and Keith’s rendezvouses on the planet, and Keith thought little of it. From the initial scouting reports, the castle appeared abandoned, and none of the fighters’ weapons could force the doors open. When Arus had been deemed unworthy of the empire’s attention, the planet had been abandoned and subsequently forgotten. So when Red urged Keith out of her cockpit, her massive roar piqued his curiosity, as did the longing grumble that sounded from the castle’s now open door. 

Keith entered with his blade extended, though no one greeted him. A simple scan activated the lights up the stairway and down the hallway in front of him. Keith followed the lights into what appeared to be an armory. Glass containers lit up to showcase five white and colored suits, including a red armor that Red urged Keith toward. At the armor’s feet was a weapon – a bayard. Keith glanced about, noticing a weapon at every armor’s boots – except Black’s.

At Red’s insistence, Keith snatched the Red Bayard, and it immediately turned into another sword – long and sleek with a blue blade and a red hilt. It fit well in left hand and balanced perfectly with his Marmora blade in his right. He whirled each about his palms, getting a feel for them, when he stopped at the sight of the black armor. 

Something unnerved him about the castle, how it opened for him now, after Shiro and he had spent so many movements upon the planet. He’d surveyed the castle’s perimeter, hoped he could find an opening for them to stay and enjoy the shelter, but eventually, he’d given up. 

If Red brought him here, then there was more here than just his weapon. He was sure of it, but he had no time to investigate. The Kral Zera was on the other side of the Yggiz System, and even with her speed, they might not make it in time. 

As Keith headed up the stairs toward the castle’s entrance, a sudden force slammed into his back. He froze and pivoted to see large, majestic doors, closed and set back in a massive hanger. The endless void of space enveloped him in its cold embrace, and he found himself on a starry plane, the seemingly endless sky aglow with a violet moon. 

Then just like that, it was gone, replaced by the gentle embers Keith knew as Red. 

“What was that?” he asked to no one in particular, but Red mewled. 

_Black. Leader._

“Who?”

Red’s urgency bled through their connection, and she sent him an image of Shiro, getting out of Red’s mouth and walking toward the castle. 

Keith staggered. 

Shiro had been to Arus alone. Shiro had flown Red. In fact, that day on Sendak’s ship – Red had been the prisoner Shiro spoke about. 

But why had Shiro come here? Why had Red brought Shiro here? 

Shaking his head, Keith forged ahead once more, but the sensation lingered in his memory and his heart.

Keith left the red and white armor. His Marmora suit worked just as well, and the subtly of the shadows was something he’d not easily relinquish. Tucking the bayard into his suit, Keith returned to Red, who welcomed him with a lowered snout. 

Slammed back into his seat, Keith tightened his hands upon Red’s controls as his lion rocketed toward Feyviv. 

He left Red on a nearby planet – much to her disapproval – and hitched a ride on Ranveig’s battlecruiser to the Kral Zera. Keith sucked in a short breath and forgot to expel it as he flew over the site. Every warlord, every commander stood before a pool of magenta fire, ready and willing to sacrifice their lives for ultimate power. Keith noticed far too many – Trugg, Ladnock, Janka, Lotor, just to name a few. Haggar and her druids even joined the unholy gathering, waiting to support whoever came out on top. 

Beyond the fiery magenta pool lay a wide stone stairway, lifting the victor to a V-shaped alter to light the eternal flame. There stood the Archivist, an ancient Galran with long shaggy hair and purple markings running over his golden eyes. A breathing mask clung to his face and hooked to a quintessence pack on his back. 

Keith jumped out of Ranveig’s battlecruiser as it neared the ground and took refuge behind one of the pillars. He quickly scoured the area, eyes searching for any signs of the Blades – and something caught his gaze, glowing a dark, vibrant purple. Keith’s eyes narrowed as a cool sensation spread in his chest, echoing the one he felt back on Arus. 

A bayard. Silver and glowing, it clung to the hip of the tallest human Keith ever saw but the shortest lieutenant in attendance. 

Keith had seen the weapon during Kolivan’s briefing about Zarkon’s demise, and as he now looked upon Zarkon’s successor and the new Black Paladin, his last encounter with his mate finally made sense. 

Krolia’s voice crackled in his ear. _Keith, are you there? Answer me!_

Keith could barely speak through his grit teeth. “You knew.”

_Keith, now is neither the time nor the –_

“The last time I met with Shiro, he mentioned the Blades. I’d never told him the name of our organization. And then Zarkon winds up dead – by Shiro’s hand. Tell me you didn’t put him up to it.”

A pause. 

“Krolia!”

He could imagine her flinch. _When Shiro helped find Red for Sendak, it revealed him to a Paladin of Voltron. Kolivan and I agreed then. We’d never get another chance to take down Zarkon. We had to take it._

Keith’s heart ached. 

At Haggar’s side, Shiro watched the events unfold with little or no interest. His face was set in a neutral expression, eyebrows low, features blank. He didn’t shift or grimace with each blow. He didn’t fidget or even cross his arms. He stood, a shell of his former warm self. Shiro might have been reserved. Keith would go insofar as to call him guarded, but his emotions sung upon his face and in his eyes. He’d never been unresponsive before. 

Keith’s hand clutched in a shuttering fist. “You forced Shiro to kill Zarkon –”

_We didn’t force him, Keith. Once we explained the situation –_

“ – and Haggar got him after, didn’t he? She did something to him.”

Hesitation stole Krolia’s voice for a dobash before she replied, voice strangled, _We gave the universe hope it hasn’t had in phoebs._

Keith’s mind traveled back to the last time they were together, when Shiro told him of the mission – about how he had planned to die. Despite the reassurances Krolia offered, Shiro went into the operation with eyes open, spouting lies that had been told to him as truths. 

“You knew he was mine, and you still put him up to it.”

 _I knew the moment I smelled him, Keith._ Annoyance echoed in her usually stern voice. _Everyone on Ranvieg’s and Sendak’s battlecruiser thought he was_ mine.

Keith searched the area, ignoring Trugg’s futile battle against Sendak. Previously, the Blades surely wouldn’t have chosen an assassination attempt on every high-ranking official of the empire, but Kolivan wouldn’t let this opportunity pass. 

So where were the Blades? 

_Keith, I need you to listen to me._

Keith could barely hear her over the blood thumping in his ears. 

_We are going to get your mate out. There’s a plan in play, and if you get in the way, you will be caught in the crossfire._

Keith glanced away, looking down at the Red Bayard in his hand. “I’m not going to leave him.”

Kolivan was wrong. Keith wouldn’t survive without Shiro. 

_We won’t, Keith. I promise._

Even after leaving him with his father, with Kolivan, with the Blades and never returning until after compromising his mate, Keith still believed his mother when she said she would save Shiro. 

He blew out a quick breath. “What do you need me to do?”

“Die.”

Keith whirled toward the sound of the new voice. It was familiar but cold, callous, and Keith gasped as Shiro towered over him, those once warm gray eyes as dark as an abyss. Magenta glowed in the middle of his irises. 

“…Shiro?”

_To Be Continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update. Life has been a bit crazy lately. The rest of the story is written, so I hope to have that up shortly. Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5

_“Die.”_

Before Keith could muster a response, Shiro let out an animalistic yell and lunged. Keith lifted his bayard and blocked the black sword, but grunted when a swift kick sent him tumbling. He landed directly into the middle of the Kral Zera’s combat field, surrounded by the attending commanders.

 _Keith! Keith!_ his mother called, but Keith ignored her as he pushed his feet underneath him.

Keith’s stomach plummeted as Shiro strode toward him in a measured, robotic stride, stopping just feet away. His neutral expression tormented Keith, but an old, nasty voice cut through his defenses.

“He bears the bayard of the Red Paladin,” Haggar declared.

Shocked gasps accompanied her announcement, but Keith focused upon Shiro, hands lifted to his chest height.

“Shiro, it’s going to be okay. I’m here to help you.”

Shiro remained silent, and Keith swallowed hard, gloves straining as he tightened his fist about his bayard.

The universe returned, shattering the private moment Keith pretended to have in the middle of the empire’s crowning moment. The commanders kept their distance, though a circle formed about Shiro and him. The Kral Zera remained unlit, Sendak the uncrowned emperor, but his harsh voice echoed across the landscape with the same commanding temper as Zarkon’s.

“Champion, you are my Black Paladin and the start of a new age for Voltron. Will this boy serve you well?”

“Yes,” Shiro said, emotionless, “but he will not serve you.”

Keith positioned himself in order to see both Shiro and Sendak, and the emperor’s face tensed, though his lips smoothed in what could almost pass as an amused smile. “Then I shall leave the method up to you, Paladin – ”

Haggar’s head snapped up, eyes blazing under her dark hood. “Sire! Wait. I can use the boy to – ”

Sendak lowered his gaze to grin at Keith. “Kill the Red Paladin and bring his bayard to me.”

Keith pivoted just in time to see a flash of purple, and then he combated, bringing his Marmoran blade to bear. Shiro swung, purple blade clashing with Keith’s. Momentum sent Keith sprawling backwards, but he switched grips as Shiro rushed toward him.

A loud explosion rumbled under their feet. Keith crouched, hand pressed against the rock ground as plombs of smoke fluttered about the platform. From the main temple, two Blades raced through the exit in time to beat the fire that rushed after them.

Krolia and Kolivan.

A swipe by the Black Bayard stole Keith’s attention, and he flipped backwards onto the balls of his feet. He only managed to gain his stance before Shiro’s bayard shifted into a chain sword. Keith ducked out of the way of the attack as Red roared in the back of his mind.

Accepting another blow by Shiro’s bayard, Keith fell to the ground and swiped a leg. Shiro jumped over the attack and glided into an effortless thrust. Sparks danced across their blades.

Keith’s scar on his wrist blazed.

Blades clashed with the commanders, led by Kolivan and Krolia. Flames licked the edge of the platform, and their energy simmered under Keith’s surface, driving him to fight. To never surrender. To win.

“Shiro! I know this isn’t you,” he pleaded.

Shiro said nothing, though his eyes burned. His teeth gnashed. With a grunt, he shifted his bayard into a larger sword. As Keith flipped, Shiro’s bayard sliced through his hood, slicing off a few locks of hair.

Their dance continued. The similar steps reminded Keith of their first meeting, but this time, Shiro didn’t pull his punches; Keith ached. A kick to his hip, an elbow to the gut, Shiro landed blows. Keith returned them with a nick of Shiro’s forearm and a slash across Shiro’s thigh.

Fire surged through Keith’s veins, and in the back of his mind, Red thrummed. She lost her previous paladin. She wouldn’t lose her new one. Though Keith saw through her eyes – space, purple fire, the Kral Zera – Shiro brought him back to the fight with a frustrated growl and a thrust of the Black Bayard.

“Shiro! Listen to me!”

Shiro’s bayard glowed a vibrant purple and shifted into a mace. Keith’s eyes shot wide, and he ducked the swipe before it took off his head.

“Whatever they did to you, we can reverse it.”

Shiro shifted the bayard again, this time into a broadsword. Keith parried his swipe and kneed Shiro in the stomach.

Red’s position flashed before Keith’s eyes. She would be there in a moment, and Keith still had no way of getting Shiro into Red. Maybe he could knock Shiro unconscious and drag him in.

As Shiro found his footing, Keith spoke in a low plea. “Shiro, we’re going to get through this together. We just need to get off Feyviv, and then – ”

“We’re not going anywhere.”

The icy tone froze Keith in his place, and when Shiro turned, gone was his emotionless mask. Now he wore a malevolent grin, one born from the Galra Empire itself. The bayard shimmered in its resting form, but instead of the smooth curves of Keith’s bayard, Shiro’s shifted until it had two glowing horns.

Keith willed his blade to sleep and held up both hands in a surrender position.

“I’m not leaving without you.”

Shiro stepped closer, eyebrows falling as his eyes narrowed. “Look around you, Keith. Every commander in the Galra Empire is here, every warlord and every druid. You think your mother and Kolivan and the Blades ever stood a chance? They will be slaughtered. The empire is all powerful, and you are just an infection to be bled out.”

Keith refused to look away from Shiro’s gray and purple eyes, but his mother and Kolivan’s breathless shouts echoed in his ears. They wouldn’t last much longer.

As Shiro neared, his blade extended, this time into a long, slender sword, similar to Keith’s Marmora weapon.

Keith held his ground, the fire from Red tingling under his skin. “I promised I’d save you. I’m going to do that.”

Shiro raised his blade. “Just give up, Keith. You can’t win against me.”

Keith glared up at Shiro, searching those shadowed eyes for some recognition of the man he loved. Shiro couldn’t be gone. He _couldn’t._ His mate survived the arena, Sendak’s command, Zarkon. He wouldn’t surrender now.

A ferocious roar quaked Keith’s very being, but it also shook the foundations of the crumbling Kral Zera. Red tore through a battlecruiser and soared toward Keith.

A shimmer of magenta light. Agony ripped through Keith. He must have screamed, though he couldn’t remember much. When he awoke on the ground, Red lay not too far away, amber eyes fading to gray.

_No…_

Haggar stood before Red, her hands glowing with siphoning powers. Keith sought his connection with Red, only to feel nothing but an empty void.

A shadow cast over him. A boot scraped the ground. The dull hum of power, and Keith managed to roll out of the way, even as the sword descended. He stumbled to his feet, Red’s fire no longer searing in his veins, no longer a constant energy ready to be released. Instead, his limbs hung heavy and his mind clouded, his grip loose about his blade.

“Now, Champion,” Haggar commanded, looming by Red’s snout. “Finish him.”

Explosions sieged the Kral Zera. Commanders clashed on the ground and in the sky. Blades fought and fell. Red lay helpless and drained, ready to be carded off by Haggar. And Shiro, his mate, the new Black Paladin, stood ready to the secure the universe for the Galra Empire by blood and by blade.

Thace’s words echoed through Keith’s head.

_Savage. Ruthless. A fight with the Champion is sure to end in death._

Keith wasn’t fighting Shiro. Keith was fighting the _Champion._ He had to reach Shiro.

His mate rushed forward, Black Bayard shimmering a deep indigo against the Feyviv night sky. His irises glowed a venomous purple, tainting the usual calming gray. Shiro’s angered cry rendered Keith weak, and he gave into the feeling, sinking to his knees. He dropped his Marmoran blade to his side and raised his chin.

Shiro’s sword stopped just under the curve. The cool sensation of the cosmos and the weight of the universe sent shivers running down Keith’s spine.

“Shiro…please…” he pleaded, fingers limp and heavy. He wouldn’t reach for his Marmoran blade again, not against his mate. He thought Shiro understood. He explained it to Shiro – his Galran bond to a mate, but perhaps Shiro didn’t understand the depth of his feeling.

_“I love you.”_

Emotions ran like water across Shiro’s face. His teeth grit. The purple in his eyes receded, almost blending into Shiro’s usually stormy gray.

“There’s nothing left, Keith.”

It sounded like a plea, and Keith’s shaking hands cupped Shiro’s cheeks. Tears shimmered in Shiro’s eyes.

 _“Fight,”_ Keith demanded. “I won’t give up on you.”

The expression upon Shiro’s face was clearly his now, pained and struggling and helpless. The sword beneath Keith’s chin trembled. Keith held on, fingers pressed against Shiro’s cheeks, thumbs brushing away the frustrated tears. This, here, now – this was worth fighting for, and Keith would die to win the battle.

Shiro closed his eyes and reopened them, fighting against something Keith couldn’t see. Sweat mixed with tears, and heavy gasps pounded Keith’s ears. Keith refused to break eye contact, refused to give Shiro any respite, until reflex tore them apart.

A loud growl sounded behind him. Keith looked over his shoulder to see Sendak. The commander’s purple fur was charred in certain places, his breastplate cracked, his flesh arm bleeding.

“A _kit_ will not heed my accession to the throne,” Sendak huffed. “I have your lion. I have your _mate,_ and now, I will have your life. My victory will be sealed by your death!”

With a resounding howl, Sendak lunged, arm blaster charging for a final blow. Keith sucked in a sharp inhale, but before he blew it out, he found the wind knocked out of him. His shoulder slammed hard against the ground, and in a flash of violet, the loud hum of Sendak’s blaster ceased. Keith turned to see Shiro’s rigid back, shoulders rising and falling with violent heaves. He stood over Sendak’s fallen and bloodied form, a thick pool of dark liquid seeping out from underneath the commander’s cooling body. The Black Bayard’s sword shimmered in Shiro’s right hand.

As Keith managed to work his way onto his knees, Shiro glanced over his shoulder. The dusty gray retook his eyes, calm and soothing and grounding Keith. He smiled as a tiny grin crossed Shiro’s face, but then pain stole the momentary gift. The Black Bayard fell from his right hand as his arm began to glow a vicious, malevolent magenta.

Shiro collapsed to the ground, pressing his right palm into the ground as its light brightened and intensified.

Keith glanced over his shoulder at Haggar, whose magenta-tipped fingers glowed. She’d been the one to hurt Shiro. She took his arm and replaced it the metal one, and she must have been there when Shiro killed Zarkon.

Keith didn’t think. He sprang to his feet, one hand gripping his Marmoran blade and the other bringing the Red Bayard to bear.

One slice freed Shiro of the arm. Before he even could see the reaction, he pivoted, ready to thrust his Marmora blade through the lunging Haggar’s chest.

His mother beat him to it.

Krolia pulled her blade from Haggar’s crumpled body, and in a blast of white light, the witch disappeared.

Keith let out a relieved sigh and turned to see Shiro, unconscious but breathing, held firmly against Kolivan’s side.

A flash of purple light spread across the landscape, signaling the start of a new era for the Galra Empire. Lotor held a torch, standing before the alter and the now kneeling Archivist. The battle still raged above, though ships plummeted toward the surface to greet their fallen commanders.

“We need to go _now,”_ Kolivan yelled and gave the order for all remaining Blades to retreat.

Keith glanced back at the idle Red Lion, and though she remained silent in his mind, her being still burned under his skin.

He wouldn’t leave without Shiro, and he couldn’t leave without his lion.

Before he voiced his claim, the Red Bayard in his hand began to glow a bright, fiery red. On the ground, the Black Bayard followed suit, its own violet color mixing with Keith’s.

Red’s eyes flashed to life, an amber, happy color, and then one leg after another, Red gathered her feet underneath her. She met Keith’s eyes, smiling and kind, and then let out a ferocious roar of pride and relief.

Her giddy nature vibrated in Keith, and he couldn’t hide away his smile.

The moment he sat down in the pilot’s chair, Red’s cockpit lit up and her excited nature pranced upon his shoulders. Keith placed his hands upon the controls, and without another thought, Red rocketed toward the sky. She avoided the falling battleships and sent off a few covering blasts. Once she hit open space, she let loose, blasting into hyperdrive and heading off in the direction they came.

“Where are you taking us?” Krolia asked, gripping the back of Red’s chair.

A mental picture flashed through Keith’s mind, followed by a deeper, more solemn message. “Arus,” he relayed. “It’s Red’s home, and there’s someone she wants Shiro to see.”

* * *

 

Keith hesitated at the opening the massive hanger, fighting the urge to leave. Shiro stood before interior monolithic doors on the opposite side, his hands and his forehead pressed against the smooth metal. It was a private moment, and Keith felt an intruder, despite Red’s presence at the foot of the stairs. She’d entered the hanger that first night and refused to leave.

Once Shiro had awoken, he managed a weak but tired smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Red was welcome in Black’s hanger, he said, as were all the lions, so when Shiro pressed his back to the hanger doors and slid down to sit, Keith went to join him.

Shiro tipped his head back, hand upon his knee, and Keith seized the opportunity to grab it. He ducked his head to hide his smile when Shiro squeezed in return.

“…Black did what he thought was right,” Shiro muttered, eyes closed, expression pained. “Honerva was pregnant, and the baby…the doctors said he wasn’t going to make it. Zarkon asked for Black’s help, and the rift seemed like the only way to save Lotor.”

Everyone in the Galra Empire knew its roots – how Zarkon had braved the rift that tore apart Daibazaal to bring unlimited quintessence to the empire. Alfor had betrayed Zarkon and closed the rift by destroying the Galran home world – after claiming the king, queen, and their unborn child had died.

“And they had,” Shiro explained, “but something unnatural brought them back to life. The person Black chose as his paladin was gone, though Zarkon lived.”

Keith heard a rumble in the back of his mind, a cool sensation brushing against his back. “So Black asked you to kill Zarkon?”

Shiro nodded. “To bring relief to the person who might still be trapped in that husk, but I can’t meet Black until all the lions are gathered. And perhaps that’s for the best.”

Keith tightened his grip upon Shiro’s hand. “You are not Zarkon.”

Shiro let out of a humorless laugh. “That doesn’t change the fact that Black has terrible taste in paladins.”

“Shiro – ”

Tugging back his hand, Shiro drew his knees close to his chest. Keith tried to keep the rejection from climbing up his throat.

“I’m a monster, Keith,” Shiro muttered. “What happens if I can’t control myself again? What happens if Haggar – ”

“Haggar’s dead,” Keith said without remorse. “My mother took care of her, and you took care of Sendak. Lotor has now ascended to the throne.”

“But that doesn’t change what I did.” Shiro’s eyes glistened. “I tried to kill you.”

Keith reclaimed Shiro’s hand between his own and cradled it like the prize it was. “You saved me, Shiro.”

Shiro’s right bicep moved, as if it wanted to reach out to touch Keith, but without the Galra’s extension, he sat back with a grimace.

“Keith, just because I ended Sendak – it doesn’t absolve me of my sins. It doesn’t mean that Kolivan and Krolia aren’t right. I’m savage, ruthless. I’m not worthy of the Black Lion…or you.”

Keith gripped Shiro’s fingers tighter. “I think you should trust the Black Lion and me to make that decision for ourselves.”

“Keith – ”

“No, Shiro, no.” Keith huddled close to Shiro until their knees touched. “You refused to turn me in when we first met.”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “I wanted you.”

“And yet you didn’t have me for pheobs and didn’t even try until I asked you. You accepted a blast at point-blank rang for my pack mate, and you went on a suicide mission because my mom, dad, and a large mystical lion asked you to.” When Shiro looked away, Keith cupped his cheek to bring Shiro’s eyes back to his own. “Hey, what happened – it wasn’t your fault.”

“I can’t – I don’t – It doesn’t matter,” Shiro finally settled on. “They _broke_ me, Keith.”

“If that were true, then I wouldn’t be here right now. You would have killed me on Feyviv.”

“Because you saved me.”

“We saved each other, Shiro.”

Keith lifted Shiro’s arm and wrapped it about his shoulders, allowing him to huddle against Shiro’s side. He kept his fingers folded with Shiro’s and closed his eyes as Shiro’s heartbeat thudded in his ears.

“No one should want to follow me.”

“I’d follow you anywhere.”

“You don’t know any better.”

“Maybe I know best.” A deep, rich rumble sliced through Keith’s thoughts. The Black Lion. “Or maybe second-best,” he amended.

Shiro took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Keith tugged on Shiro’s fingers when they loosened but refused to relinquish the hand so soon after reclaiming it. “You know, Kolivan isn’t infallible. He has Antok and my mom and others to rely upon, including me.”

A thoughtful noise ticked in the back of Shiro’s throat, but Keith ignored him.

“You called to me, when Red came from me at the base. I heard you.”

“…I…thought of you…” Shiro murmured, eyebrows knitted, gaze unfocused. “Right after I killed Zarkon. Haggar – she was furious. I could feel her magic in the throne room, and then…” Shiro looked away, but Keith pulled him back with a gentle tug. “…she said she’d take my mate like I took hers. But I – I couldn’t let her. I _wouldn’t._ But she attacked. My mark burned. My body felt like it was fire. Black fought her. Red, too, and she said she’d protect you. Red said she would make sure you were safe.”

“She did.”

Shiro scowled. “She brought you right to me, to Haggar. How is that keeping you safe?”

Red’s head lifted, eyes glowing and bitter, but Shiro refused to back down.

Neither would Keith. “Red knew you would never hurt me.” He waited for a moment, then pushed onto his knees to take Shiro’s glistening cheeks in his hands. “There is no safer place for me than at your side. The Kral Zera proved that.”

“I didn’t do anything but hurt you.”

“You saved me from Sendak. You saved the universe from Zarkon, and now, we’re going to defend it – _together.”_

Shiro’s hands slid up Keith’s forearm and slid back down in a soothing, calming rhythm. Keith hated the waiting, but he’d searched for Shiro for phoebs. He could wait another few dobashes for Shiro’s lips to twist, and his first real smile since they parted peek through.

“Yes. We are always stronger together. Thank you, for never giving up on me.”

Keith looked up and pressed a chaste kiss to Shiro’s lips. “Thank you, for coming back to me.”

Shiro teased one of Keith’s locks and pushed it behind his ear. “I’ll always come back to you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Silence fell upon the hanger, though Red lowered her head with a tolerant huff and Black purred in the back of their minds. Keith wanted to give Shiro the time he needed, though his patience began to wear thin.

A loud sigh lifted up Keith’s gaze, and he watched Shiro blow out another breath.

“In order to free Black, we’re going to need the rest of the lions.”

The tension broke then in a blinding flash of violet, and when Keith opened his eyes, he watched as the Black Bayard rose from its position on Shiro’s other side. It floated in mid-air, shimmering and sparkling with pure quintessence. It grew and shifted, coming to attach itself to the end of Shiro’s bicep and form an arm.

Shiro looked down it, shocked and wonderous. A delighted, giddy smile grew upon his face, and then he reached out to cup Keith’s face with both hands. The action surprised a smile out of Keith, who willingly went into Shiro’s hold and accepted the heated, celebratory kiss.

“I missed this,” Shiro whispered.

“I missed you,” Keith replied, which earned him another embrace.

“Same here.” A pregnant pause. “I love you, too.”

Keith closed his eyes and lowered his forehead, pressing into Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro’s new arm came up to the back of his head as Keith said, “I wasn’t leaving there without you.”

“I know,” Shiro admitted, and Keith raised his head at Shiro’s weary tone. Shiro’s eyes were anything but gentle. “Never, ever surrender again – to me or to anyone. You fight, Keith. You fight until you win.”

“But I did surrender, Shiro. A long time ago, on Arus.” He pressed his forehead into Shiro’s as Shiro’s eyes widened. “To you. Haggar, Sendak, the entire Galra Empire can’t change that. _Nothing_ can change that.”

Shiro’s hold was unyielding as the tears slid down his cheeks, and then he pulled Keith close until Keith was all but in his lap. “Scent-mark me?”

Keith smiled and pulled off his gloves. Once he finished, he grabbed hold of both Shiro’s hands. “Where to?”

Shiro looked uncomfortable for a moment before he threaded his fingers with Keith’s. “The Blue Lion – Haggar used me to locate it. It’s on Earth.”

Cherry blossoms, lattes, macaroni and cheese. “You’re going home?”

“ _We’re_ going home,” Shiro laughed. “Hey, I met your parents. Now it’s your turn.”

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Thanks for sticking it out with me. Hope you enjoyed. :)


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